


Killer Coffee

by dumplingdowg



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Coffee Shops, Depressed Peter Parker, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Getting to Know Each Other, Happy Ending, Idiots in Love, M/M, Ned is a good best friend, Not really slow burn, Peter is awkward, Peter is sassy sometimes, Peter's in college, Poor Peter Parker, Strangers to Lovers, Wade is wade, Wade just wants to make Peter happy, Wade's still a merc, eventually, he's still DP, switching POV, the coffee shop is basically like the merc bar
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2020-04-08 12:48:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19107412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dumplingdowg/pseuds/dumplingdowg
Summary: Peter Parker is a broke college student by day confident Spider-Man by night. He's lonely, depressed, and generally in a bad place until one day on his way to a lecture he stops into a new coffee shop where he meets a flirtatious barista named Wade Wilson. As their relationship unfolds Wade begins to understand Peter, but Peter struggles to open up to him about where he goes at night. Though Peter is the first person since Vanessa to really accept Wade, Wade still fears Peter will leave. Though his friends and family (besides Ned ofc) tell him to back away Peter finally finds someone who makes him happy, and Wade find someone who accepts him for who he is. Follow them through their journey of self discovery with some fun antics along the way.Disclaimer: this is my first fic so still kind of fleshing this out.





	Killer Coffee

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! Super excited to write this. I hope you enjoy! The last paragraph has some indention problems because for some reason those indents won't go through :/

      It was dark out, and oddly quiet for a city like this. Even with Peter’s spidey senses he could only hear the humming of the light posts fade in and out around his apartment. “Jeez,” he puffed sliding through the open window into his dingy apartment. Tonight’s patrol was rough, and he had the black eye to prove it. Nights had been rougher recently. Peter couldn’t tell if it was him or the city. It was probably him. Walking through his apartment trying to ignore the peeling paint on the walls and weird brown hopefully water stains was getting to be increasingly difficult. Perhaps this place really was dampening his mood. That’s not even a suggestion. He knew it was, and on top of his constant feeling of meaninglessness this really wasn’t helping. As much work as he did being Spider-Man or whatever things never seemed to get better. Crime raged on, people continued to die, and he just kept going. Trying to do what he could, and not fuck everything up.  
      The world seemed to move around him, and never with him, though he couldn’t help but blame himself for that occurrence. It was like he gave up on trying to keep up with the rest of the world. Peter blinked back into reality grasping at his forearms as a chilled breeze blew from the still opened window and through the apartment blowing through the loose papers of packets, pdf textbooks, and past tests strewn across the floor. The dead of winter in New York was not new to him, but still caused him to shake and frown with disdain with each reminder of its presence. Peter danced delicately through the snowstorm of papers nimbly dodging the crumpling of any of them. The room was dark again because he couldn’t keep up with the electric bill (which also meant no heat), but that was okay he guessed. Due his spider powers or whatever and his human ability to adjust he was able to see where he was going rather quickly. Walking forwards and towards the kitchen, or should he just say the corner of his tiny one room apartment he stopped assessing the dark and stained kitchen ware around him. Peter reached towards the counter and gripped the broken tiles as he stood on his tippy toes to open the top cupboard. Thank god he was flexible. With a squeak the cabinet door opened echoing into the quiet night.  
      Peter reached his hand in fumbling around to see what was in the front of the cabinet. “Looks like tonight it’s,” he paused peering his eyes into the cupboard and inhaling the scent of slightly damp wood. He opened his eyes wide with mock disbelief as he pretended to be shocked when he saw the empty cupboard, “Nothing!” He chuckled grimly to himself. This wasn’t going to cut it. Peter turned around in a circle dramatically lifting his leg to walk away. You’d think this whole Spiderman business would pay well. Psych! It pays absolutely nothing. Save the day on a regular basis to be paid in jeering. He let out an exasperated sigh. Peter pushed the door to the top cabinet closed with the tips on his fingers, and slowly backed away from the counter peeling his suit off, and letting it drop across the floor. He took a deep breath of relief happy to be back in his own body again without the persona of Spider-man creeping up behind him every step he took. As much as he loved his powers and his job it was a blessing and a curse. He loved saving people, but the confident and witty man he was as Spiderman never quite played out the same way as Peter. Plus more than half of the city hates him because he’s a vigilante or whatever they want to call it. Sorry the cops can’t do their jobs? It’s difficult to keep your head up when the world seems to hate you for doing good. There he went spiraling again. The kind of feeling of sadness crept into his mind and sunk into his eyes making them feel heavy and cavernous. He continued walking towards his mattress that sat sadly without a frame piled with clothes (who knew if they were dirty or not) and reached to grab one of his classic nerd shirts and some gray sweats. This one had two elements standing next to each other one, Na, saying “that’s sodium funny” and the other, Ne, laughing saying “I slapped my neon that one!” Wow hilarious. He actually thought them to be quite funny, but he’d never admit that. Not having electricity was really a pain in the ass. He slipped on some polka dot fuzzy socks he picked up in the one dollar isle of Target, and to his own disgust got ready for bed.  
      “This biochemistry major better get me loaded in the future,” he grumbled letting his hand rest on the back of his head grasping at his short brown hair. He plopped onto his bed attempting to drift into sleep, but his mind kept racing into thought after thought. He wrapped the three thick blankets he had around his body, and pulled the covers up. He stared at the ceiling’s mysterious stains and falling popcorn for a while imagining what futures he’d like to have. The jobs he’d idealized, the house he’d have, and maybe he’d even have a spouse. Though to be honest it was difficult to see himself ever leaving this dumpster of an apartment.  
“Another MJ,” he thought slightly frowning at the thought, “No that would be impossible.” He stretched his legs all the way across the bed. He knew MJ was irreplacable, and even though they had gone their separate ways almost a year ago the pain still stung like a fresh scrape off the pavement. “Maybe a boyfriend this time,” he snorted in disbelief of his own words. At this point he wasn’t even sure he liked girls anymore. Is that even possible? Maybe. “Jesus Peter get yourself together,” he chided, “Regardless the thought of this disaster getting anything like that is hilarious to think about,” he said out loud. He closed his eyes attempting to drift into sleep to no avail. He kept tossing and turning in his bed occasionally kicking some of the clothes strewn across it onto the floor. Around 2 AM he gave up. “ It’s gonna be one of those nights,” he groaned. Peter tossed over to the side lying in a ball knowing he wasn’t going to sleep much tonight, but rather instead be stuck with his thoughts and the shapes that formed behind his eyelids trying to make up patterns as his mind wondered. He knew he needed to get a grip; however at this point he had no money to get a therapist let alone pay his rent and no time to find a job. He came home exhausted every night from school and you know saving the city again. Perhaps he needed to get out more. He knew he needed to get out more, but it was just manifesting the effort and finding the time to do so. Needless to say he felt very alone.

 

 

      The next morning he woke up as per usual at 8:45 AM. He groaned in annoyance as his alarm buzzed over and over for the 3rd time this morning. Peter put his arms out, and hoisted himself into a seated position. He squinted his bleary eyes and shuffled his hand across the floor for his glasses. Finally reaching them he grasped the wire frames, and fumbled to put them on his head. He let out a brief yawn and ran his fingers though his bed head then achingly rose from his bed.  
“Why did I sign up for a 10 AM class,” he swung his feet over the side of the bed, and stood up stretching his arms towards the ceiling. He cumbersomely walked towards his bathroom, and opened the shoddy white wooden door. He turned towards the sink and glanced towards the mirror. Jeez the bags were getting worse. He turned to the shower in the corner of the small tile room, and reached to turn the water on. The shower head spluttered for a second and began to run lukewarm water into the tub. Peter stripped his shirt and pants. He didn’t wear underwear in the suit you could totally see it if he did. Sometimes he regretted making his Spider-Man outfit basically a morph suit. He gazed in the mirror noticing the bruises and scrapes that spread across his body. There were scars from previous battles, but none too big. After all, his healing factor did make most of them disappear after a few days or so. It was just the nasty ones that lasted. The black eye he received last night was still there though quickly fading it’d probably be gone by the end of the day. He placed his hands on his hips analyzing his body. Though he was physically fit there was a certain frailness of his body that recently became noticeable. Definitely from the lack of nutrience he was receiving, but regardless it was slightly troubling. He’d always been a small guy standing at 5 feet 6 and a half inches exactly (he takes every extra inch centimeter he can get ok) but even now his weight loss was becoming kind of problematic.  
      He stepped into the tub, and let the water pour over him. He’d gotten used to the unpleasantness of the water at this point. He shampooed his thick brown hair, and let all the grime from yesterday’s fights slide off of him. He tried to clean himself as fast as possible, so he could leave in time to get a coffee, and to get out of the unpleasant shower he’d been taking. Peter’s lecture wasn’t far from where he was, and traffic at 10 AM certainly was raging or anything. Not like he had a car or anything, so he had time. He turned the faucet off, and stepped out of the tub dripping wet. Peter grabbed the pink fluffy towel Aunt May had given him hanging on the rack and dried himself off. Shaking the towel around his hair, and moving on to his body. He wrapped the towel around his waist, and walked out of the bathroom grabbing his glasses from the sink where he had left them. He walked towards his clothes pile to grab some boxers, blue jeans and his favorite dark green cable knit sweater he scored from a Goodwill. While he dressed himself his mind began to wander on his thoughts the night before. A boyfriend. That’d be so nice. God Peter needed to get laid this depressing celibate life he’d been living for the past year was not helping his ongoing issues.  
      “Wouldn’t that be great,” he muttered pulling his beaten up Converse he’d had since he was 17 over his woolen socks. “Someone to hold me like the dame I am,” he let out a snort at that one. Peter grabbed his books, computer, and various papers from the floor and placed them in his book bag. Once all put together he headed for the door and down the stairs of his apartment.  
      Once outside he shivered. Of course it was snowing. Peter could already feel his face turning numb and red. He began walking towards the coffee shop down the street as quickly as possible without looking entirely crazy. Not that it mattered. This was New York he was talking about. As he marched through the throngs of people on the street, Peter began to slow down turning into the coffee shop. The atmosphere immediately changed. His surroundings were warm and inviting. Books lined the walls and soft music lulled in the background. Though calming he couldn’t help but notice the kind of cute but violent theme the artwork placed on the walls had.  
     “Hi welcome to Killer Coffee,” a deep voice cheerfully said from behind the counter. Peter looked towards the voice matching it to a very handsome man. Unconventionally handsome he supposed. The man was covered in small scars along what Peter could see of his body. He wore a long sleeve shirt with a black apron wrapped around it Killer Coffee embroidered in red on it. Peter could tell this guy was ripped even with the layers of clothes on, and he was insanely tall.  
     “Uh— hi!” Peter paused snapping out of his ogling of the man. He internally facepalmed at his own lack of subtlty. Come on Parker get a grip! He stepped towards the counter, “I mean good morning,” he stuttered. He looked down towards the counter praying the blush he was sporting would be covered by the redness from the cold outside.  
     “What can I get started for ya,” the man smiled pressing various buttons onto the screen in front of him. He clearly knew the affect he was having on Peter. His eyes were a nice blue Peter thought. Kind of icy, but not in an unwelcoming way. The man placed his hands on either side of the counter drumming his fingers waiting for a response from the clearly flustered boy in front of him. Peter internally prayed that the man would jut ignore his entire being.  
     “Oh!” Peter paused looking up at the chalk board of coffee orders above him, “Can I get a medium hot caramel macchiato please.” Peter cringed at himself for speaking so quickly. He had practically shouted that. Peter come on it’s just an attractive —very attractive at that—man. He really wanted to smack himself right about now.  
     “Sure thing sugar bear,” the man quipped right back flashing a short wink. Peter’s face burned red. Oh god he noticed he thought. “One medium caramel macchiato coming right up!” The man grabbed a cup from the middle stack and began writing the order. He placed the cup to the side, and began punching the numbers in on the screen, “That’ll be 3.75,” he looked up at Peter as the short boy nervously pushed his hands through his hair. Peter reached into his backpack to look for his wallet. He grabbed the beat up pikachu wallet, and pulled out 3 dollars. Realizing the lack of change he had, Peter quickly searched through his wallet checking each nook and cranny for coins.  
      “Oh my god,” his eyes went round, “I don’t have any change I’m so sorry for wasting your time,” Peter floundered beginning to turn around embarrassed. He continued looking into his wallet to no avail.  
      “Don’t worry about it,” the man assured him, “I’ll cover it. You’re totally fine.”  
      “No don’t do that,” Peter began putting his wallet back in his backpack, “I’ll just leave”  
      “Baby boy,” Peter stopped dead in his tracks. He’d never been called that before, and boy oh boy did his stomach just do like 5 flips in a row.“Relax it’s 75 cents I got it.” The man smiled putting is hand out to try and calm the boy. “Now can I get a name for your order?”  
      Peter put his hands over his head, “Thank you so much,” he began, “Peter. Peter’s my name,” he paused, “but I don’t mind baby boy either,” Peter winked (two can play at that game beefy barista man) and smiled pushing his glasses further onto the bridge of his nose. “I can’t believe I just said that,” he whispered entirely appalled (but also impressed ngl) by his own behavior. Why did he do that? He was never going to live that down. This man probably isn’t even actually into him he thought.  
      “Oh I catch your drift,” the man maintained eye contact with Peter, “those pretty doe eyes could get you this coffee for free if I didn’t have will of steel. Call me Green Lantern baby because my willpower is through the roof!” The man pumped his fist up in triumph. Peter blinked at the man in disbelief. What a shitty comic to reference. The man began writing Peter’s name on the cup, and ended with a bunch of hearts around Peter’s name. Peter’s face went bright red again. His face could not catch a break with this rollercoaster (or maybe more of a train wreck) of emotions. He really just called him sugar bear, baby boy, and Petey Pie. This guy was good. Much better than Peter was at flirting, and as much as Peter wanted to bury himself into his backpack or better 6 feet underground; he could really get used to burying himself in that barista’s arms. Oh my god he could not believe that just went through his mind. Before he could say or think anything stupider, Peter turned around to take a set to wait for his coffee. He glanced at his watch remembering he still had class after this experience. Good it was only 9:45 he had time to get to class. He began to play with the loose threads on the arms of his sweater as he waited for his coffee taking out his phone to text his best friend Ned.

  
**Peter:** Ned I need you to kill me. You’ll never guess what just happened!?  
**Ned:** What did u see another man with a cat on the back of a dog and why does it constitute me killing u  
**Peter:** No Ned. I just met the HOTTEST guy at the Killer Coffee on my street  
**Ned:** ooo is it the hot bald barista with the muscles and scars?? I’d let him step on my neck until I died ngl  
**Peter:** How did you know!!?? I think I’m gonna die  
**Ned:** R u gonna ask him for his # bc u definitely should  
**Peter:** No. He’d never say yes to me  
**Ned:** coward lol ur Spider-Man and ur hot Pete he’d say yes in a heartbeat  
**Peter:** 1st off fuck u. 2nd off he doesn’t know I’m Spider-Man, and I’m not but whatever  
**Ned:** Spider-Man would ask him out just sayin

  
      “Caramel macchiato for Petey!” The familiar voice rung out. Peter jolted back into reality rolling his eyes at Ned. He knew Ned was right about the Spider-Man thing, but he didn’t have the courage at this point to ask the barista for his number. Hell, he didn’t even have his name, so he stood up from his seat walked the counter and grabbed the drink from the man’s hand. Was he shaking? Maybe. The man took one look at Peter, and Peter melted.  
      “Thank you so much,” Peter quickly thanked, “I promise I’ll bring you the 75 cents!” He waved his hand turning around to walk out of the shop.  
      “As much as it doesn’t matter,” Peter turned around to view the man, “I’d do anything to see that pretty face again,” the man called flashing finger guns at him. Finger guns.  
      “Wow finger guns,” Peter giggled, “You’re a nerd.” The man just shrugged still smiling. “But I’ll see you later,” Peter took a sip of his drink, and opened the door letting the bell at the top jingle back and forth.  
      Peter looked down at his phone with had been consistently vibrating as Peter had made his final exchange with the handsome stranger.

 **Ned:** Seriously Peter  
**Ned:** ask him for his number u deserve a good relationship  
**Ned:** Plus maybe he’d give us both discounts on coffee

  
      Peter smiled at kind text messages from his friend. Ned was genuinely the best friend he had ever had. Through thick and thin they had been together. Peter even trusted him with knowing he was Spider-Man, and of course Ned took it in stride. He demanded to be his guy in the chair, but duh he was a computer genius who else would do it?

  
**Peter:** Thanks Ned I’ve already left but I’m gonna go back later today because I owe him 75 cents lmao  
**Ned:** wow that’s not an obvious excuse at all such a good guy Peter

  
      Peter placed his phone into his pocket picking up is pace to make it to class. The snow hadn’t relented at all as he turned onto the street to the science building of his college. Fellow students lined the sidewalk walking to their classes. Some greeted Peter with a wave though he’s gonna be honest he didn’t know who the majority of them were. He was an introvert with a small group of friends, and none of them weren’t taking this class with him. Peter gripped the cold metal of the door handles of science building entrance, and walked in. Hot air blew over his body.  
      “Finally some heat,” Peter exhaled. He walked down the hallway dusting the snow flakes that hadn’t completely turned into water on his sweater off, and took a left into his lecture hall. He was cutting it close on time. The majority of the seats had been taken already, so he took a seat on the edge of the first row. Great. Now he’d really have to pay attention. He let go of his backpack, and unpacked his computer loading up the document he was using to take notes. As the professor began talking Peter’s mind began to wander back to his exchange with the handsome barista man. His mind lingered on the man’s well built body. He had to be some sort of like fitness guru or some shit. Peter chuckled to himself at the thought of that guy teaching any sort of fitness class. Had his flirting been genuine, or was he just being an overly nice worker? Peter had never been called names like that before. Baby boy. He almost shuddered at the thought. Wow he really was not paying attention to this lecture. What that barista could do to him. He began picturing the man’s arms traveling up the sides of Peter’s body. Cupping his face with those big hands of his. Traveling down his stomach and reaching to— Peter get a grip! He was still in class. Jesus get a hold of yourself. Peter shook his head blinking out of his fantasy with the barista. He really should listen to his friend Ned. Ned’s right he should give him his number or something, but that’s so difficult. Peter’s shy, and he doesn’t do well with rejection. Let alone rejection from a guy like that. Perhaps Peter’s aiming too high. No. Pete you deserve this. You’re gonna go back to Killer Coffee with your 75 cents, and then you’re gonna ask for his number like the grown ass man you are. Right. He could do this.  
      “Okay class you’re excused. If you have any questions about what we went over today feel free to email me, or just look it up yourselves,” the class let out a small chuckle. Peter folded his laptop, placed it into his backpack, and took out his phone.

 **To:** Ned  
**Peter:** I’m gonna do it I just need 75 cents lmao  
**Ned:** go to a fucking vending machine or some shit idk ask for some from someone

      Peter exited the lecture hall, and proceeded down the hallway towards the exit of the building. He looked around thinking about how he was going to find these 75 cents. He couldn’t believe he was actually going to do this. This man was going to laugh at his face. Remind him of just how worthless he really is. Peter frowned. He was so stupid for going through with this. He should just go home and forget about it. No, Peter was going to try this out. He had to just to spite that little voice in the back of his head. Out of the corner of his eye he saw one of the guys who waved at him this morning. Bingo.  
      “Hey!” Peter called out waving to get the man’s attention. The guy looked up from his phone and smiled. Peter walked towards him.  
      “Hey you’re Peter right?” The guy smiled from cheek to cheek. He had a good smile Peter thought.  
      “Yeah that’s me,” Peter said placing his hand behind his head, “and you are?” The guy’s eyes widened stepping back, “Oh! I’m Flash” he opened the door holding it for Peter to exit beside him.  
      “Nice to meet you Flash. This is a super weird question, but can I borrow 75 cents? I need that much more for a bus pass to see my Aunt May tonight for dinner,”         Peter smiled sheepishly, “I’m super sorry, and I promise I’ll pay you back!” Flash just laughed reaching into his wallet to pull out three quarters. He didn’t want to tell this guy his embarrassing story about the barista, so one little lie wasn’t going to hurt anyone.  
“Yeah of course Peter, and don’t worry about paying it back. Maybe you can pay me back by grabbing coffee with me or something?” Peter put on the fakest smile he could muster and quickly nodded. Definitely not, but ok.  
“Yeah of course, Flash. Thank you so much! We definitely can at some point.” Peter took the coins and put them in his wallet. Flash let out a snort seeing the beaten up pikachu wallet. “What? You have a problem with Pokemon?” Peter said.  
“No, no!,” Flash raised his arms in defense, “It’s cute. I ’ll see you around sometime.” And with that Flash turned around and walked down the street. Great definitely would not be seeing that guy again. Sure he was nice, but he gave off major douche vibes. Peter rolled his eyes, and walked towards the Killer Coffee. His breathing was quick with anxiety, and it seemed like he was walking slower and slower as he approached the place. He stopped once he saw the large black and red sign hanging over the door. He could do this. He pressed on the door opening it to once again be greeted by the smell of fresh coffee and pastries, and looked towards the line to order. He really was fucked.

**Author's Note:**

> How will their second encounter go???? OoOoO  
> Thanks so much for reading! Feel free to leave comments and whatever. This is my first fic, so please be constructive with your criticism.  
> I'll try to update this as frequently as I can


End file.
